


Matress Angels

by littlemissjaffa



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV), Peaky Blinders RPF
Genre: Christmas Smut, Cunnilingus, Dom!Michael, F/M, Oral Sex, Overstimulation (tiny), Spit As Lube, Swearing, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, sub!Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:55:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28654596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemissjaffa/pseuds/littlemissjaffa
Summary: Michael and yourself weren’t exclusive but strictly speaking, you did spend an awful amount of time together that certainly suggested that you were. Spending the night at Polly’s on Christmas Eve would only make this assumption more valid. On the assumption that you are exclusive, Polly offers up one of her rooms… with one bed. What are two, young, hormone-filled adults going to do with just one bed?
Relationships: Michael Gray & Reader, Michael Gray/Original Female Character(s), Michael Gray/Reader, Michael Gray/You
Kudos: 13





	Matress Angels

“Michael, there’s only one bed,” you whisper to him.

He hums, “Mum must’ve had an inkling about us. I can sleep downstairs if you want,” he offers, raising an eyebrow.

The two of you were spending Christmas at Polly’s as per your suggestion in her townhouse out in the countryside. To be fair, you had mentioned it in passing after Polly had mentioned that she would have more than enough room for Michael to stay for the eve of Christmas and to be there the morning of to save journey time. He had winced and his hand that rested on your lower back firmed, he didn’t know how to reply and you could sense that through the thin material of your dress. 

“I don’t know, Mum, I was going to do my rounds with Y/N.”

Polly’s eyes had lingered over Michael’s hand that rested on your back but only momentarily, you had noticed this but pretended not to when you said, “Well, I was only going to visit Michael... if you don’t mind me staying the night too I’d be more than happy to make up for the burden.”

That was two weeks ago. And here you were, staring at the bed. The singular bed. The only bed in the room. At least it was a double.

“It’s okay,” you say, referring to his offer of sleeping elsewhere, “we’re adults. We can share one bed.”

Michael perches on the end of the bed and takes off his shoes, opting for something more comfortable, while you lay down on the other side, arms spread out wide, trying to think of something to say to keep the conversation going and to stop your mind from wandering.

“Let’s make snow angels!”

“Pardon?”

“I said,” you reiterate, pushing yourself up on an elbow to look at Michael peering over his shoulder at you, “let’s make snow angels!”

“How old are you?” although his comment doesn’t hurt as his grin widens on his face as he shifts his body to face you properly, “plus,” he begins, “It’s a mattress, much less, er, _snow_ than what we would need.”

“...Mattress angels?”

Michael’s eyes suddenly darken and he makes his way to crawl towards you, I know what we could do...” his voice trails off and his fingers circle the skin where your dress finished suggestively.

“Michael!” Your face heats up form the suggestion, mortified that he would want to do something that dirty with Polly just a few doors down, “Polly, your Mother,” you emphasise, “is only a few doors down.”

He shrugs his shoulders and smirks, “Worried she might hear you?”

You snap your legs shut and sit up abruptly, startling him and forcing him to sit back again, “She’s not going to hear us because it’s not happening.”

Michael pulls back, not one to push you into somehting that you didn’t want to do, “Alright,” he moves on with the conversation, “Mum said we can go down for a late night snack or join her for a drink in a few.”

“Sounds good,” you say, thankful for Michael respecting your wishes, “I’ll slip something a little more comfortable on, then.”

Downstairs, Polly was passed out on the settee, a glass resting on the arm of her chair, her head resting on the back of her chair, lightly snoring. She had mentioned something earlier about being busy last night and the morning following it on. You smile and Michael chuckles, “We wouldn’t have had anything to worry about.”

You press a soft kiss to his lips, “This is nice though.”

“It is,” he presses a kiss back, kissing you slowly like he’s trying to savour every second he can to the fullest. His hands are resting on your hips, mindlessly rubbing circles with his thumbs whilst yours hang loosely around his neck, fingers scratching at the bottom of his hairline.

The fire crackled in the background as you and Michael continued to deepen the kiss, devouring each other as you began licking into the other’s mouth, tasting the wine that Michael had with his dinner earlier on. It gave him an intoxicating feel, making you want to taste this forever, his musk filling your senses and his fingers trailing your waist, contemplating whether or not to go much further. When Michael pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, he looked down to where his hands rested before flitting up to meet your gaze. His mouth was hung open, drinking in all the air that he couldn’t get moments ago.

“We should stop, you didn’t want to earlier and I’m afraid that if we continue I won’t be able to stop.”

Your eyes fill with lust, he notices but waits for you to say the word, “She is asleep,” you manage to whisper, still praying that she’s fast asleep adn far from waking up anytime soon.

“You can’t take it back if you say it.”

“I know...” you bring your lower lip between your teeth and bring your fingers to face, cupping his cheeks, you say, “take me upstairs, Michael.”

His mouth finds yours and he pushes your mouth open with a swipe of his tongue, moulding your mouths together as his hands wrap underneath your thighs. You obediently jump, locking your ankles behind his back and he holds you up by your ass. He doesn’t open his eyes as he walks up the stairs, sure you should’ve been worried but his mouth was much more captivating at this precise moment in time.

Before you knew it, you were being laid out on the singular bed in your room that you were staying in. Michael let go, kicking off his slippers and unbuttoning the top of his shirt. When he connects your mouths again, it’s a clash of teeth and tongues and your hands instantly reach for the warmth underneath his shirt. His hand reaches behind your head and pulls at the pins holding your hair together before throwing them in the vague direction of the dresser that had become home to your limited luggage.

You had locked your legs around his waist again, aching for the feeling of his hard cock against your heated core, praying for some kind of friction that would relieve your need for him. His hands rested either side of your head, slowly crawling onto the bed to meet you level with him.

At this, you arched up, pulling your hand from his shoulder and slipping off your robe and pushing it to fall off of the bed and then reach to unbutton his shirt all the way and throw it on the floor with your robe. This meant Michael was half naked but you still had a slip on. He lifted a hand and wrapped his fingers around your throat, pulling you up to meet his tongue and to see how far he could get his tongue before you whined, like you usually did.

Whimpering, Michael smiled at your vocal plead to move on, unravelling his fingers from your throat and connecting his lips to your neck, wanting to see how far he could get you without touching you.

He bites and licks at your neck, enough to make your eyes roll and your nerves to tingle, making your fingers curl in his hair, tugging from the pleasure. You breathe heavily against his ear and push him away from your neck, unbuckling his belt with eager fingers, but as you were about to push his trousers down to his thighs, he stops you and presses a firm kiss to your lips.

“Let me,” he whispers against your mouth, “just...” his voice fades away as he lowers his head to your perk nipples, showing evidently through the incredibly thin slip you were wearing. Without a second to spare, he latches his teeth to your nipple, lightly pulling them, making you fidget from the sensitivity you were currently experiencing. Then, he circles his tongue on your areola thorugh the fabric, leaving a wet patch before capturing your breast in his mouth.

“Oh, sweet Jesus, Michael...” your head rolls, “I’m begging you to fuck me... like you mean it.”

Grunting, he pushes his trousers down and kicks them off, obediently, not wanting to miss this moment, either, “I fucking love you so much right now.”

You lift your head to view his figure. His eyes were ravaging your body as he thought about what to do next. You grasped the bottom of your slip and pulled it over your body and reached a hand down to acknowledge your throbbing pussy.

“Oh fuck, that’s hot.”

You giggle, “Do something about it then, won’t you,” you pout and put on the best puppy eyes you can, “please?”

Immediately, his tongue swirls over each of your taut nipples and down your stomach, loops your belly button and nudges through your pubic hair to your clitoris. His lips attach and _suck_ for dear life, making you let out the girthiest moan you’d ever heard from your own body, making you slap you hand over your mouth as Michael continued, refusing to let up. He reaches a hand below your leg, hooking it over his shoulder and bringing his hand around it to rest on your inner thigh to hold it in place. His other hand runs along your folds, teasing you. He halts briefly to push his fingers past your soft lips, lubricating them with your saliva before bringing them back down and pushes one slowly into your hole. 

“Tell me... use your words with me,” he growls against your clit.

His tongue doesn’t leave your clit, swiping his tongue from your hole to your clit and mimics the tongue twister you had joking taught him one time.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you breathe out in breathy moans just as he pushes a second finger into your pussy, meaning that you were now barely able to string together a coherent sentence. It was more than enough feedback for him, what with your fingers tightening around the strands of hair you had in your fists, he responded to everything your body was telling him. “You like that, baby? Huh?” His eyes flick up to watch as you begin to fall apart, breathing heavy and eyes unfocused.

“Y-yes.”

Still pushing his fingers in and out of you, he continues feeling around for the spot that he knew was nearby -- he was no stranger to your body this intimately.

“How about this, then?”

He lifts his head from your throbbing pussy and lets his hand that was locked around your thigh move to rub calculated circles over your clit. He spits onto his fingers as they continue to move in and out to allow an easier slide.

At this point, his fingers hit the spot and your body arches, lifting away from the bed, “Th-there, don’t... s-stop.”

Now knowing where he was aiming for, he allows his fingers to move at a faster pace and lets his thumb rub harder circles into your clit. He bends his head down to lick stripes into your pussy wherever he could, occasionally lifting his thumb to switch for his tongue and vice versa, pushing you to the edge.

“Yes, Michael, yes!”

He switches his fingers for his tongue, pushing in and out of your entrance, wanting to taste you.

“Wanna taste you,” he says, “can you do that for me, baby?”

You bite your lip and nod, “Mhmm.”

His thumb continues its attack on your clitoris and within seconds your coming apart on his face. Micahel laps up your release on his tongue and helps you ride out your high.

When your body relaxes and your fingers uncench his hair his lifts his head, lips glistening from your arousal, “You taste so fucking sweet.”

Ignoring him, you pull his face up to yours and begin to kiss him sloppily, mind still foggy from your orgasm only moments ago. You smile at the taste of yourself still fresh on his lips and reach a hand down between the two of you to address the, _ahem_ , third member present in the room.

Michael moans as your fingertips brush lightly across the strained material of his underwear, over his erect cock.

“Your turn,” you mumble, “wanna make you cum.”

Tucking your fingers under the band of his underwear, you push them down to his knees and push at his chest lightly, making him lay back so you could pull them off all the way. The soon got lost in the jumble of clothes piling up on the floor.

Swinging your hair over your shoulder, you thumb lightly at the head of his cock, swiping the moisture that had gathered and spreading it before circling your fingers around his rock hard cock and pumping it a couple of times.

Michael bites his lip, holding back a low groan, “Suck,” he demands.

Willingly, you grin and wrap your lips around the head and swirl your tongue around the tip. You begin to gradually push his dick further into your mouth, flattening your tongue on the underside of his dick and humming. Bobbing your head up and down, Michael knots your hair around his fist and helps you maintain your rhythm. “Y/N, just like that,” he groans out. You let your hand travel down to your pussy and to play with your clit, getting off on Michael’s moans dancing through the air like a sweet lullaby to your sinning ears.

“Greedy slut,” he says, grinning, “can’t wait for your second orgasm when I haven’t even had one?”

You stop toying with your clit and decide to see just how far you could take his cock in your throat and hollow your cheeks. At this, you could practically feel it twitch in your mouth. You press your hands onto his thighs to balance yourself as you lower your head until your nose is nudging the hair at the base of his cock. He lets out an almighty growl as he strains himself, not wanting to buck into your mouth but you moan at the feel of him and he fucks into your mouth, cock hitting the back of your throat and tears filling your eyes from the stinging.

“Fucking hell...” he moans out.

You lift your head and bring one hand to the base of his cock, squeezing at different pressures before lifting your lips from his cock and releasing it with a pop. You wipe the tears with the back of your free hand.

Michaels head lifts to meet your eyes. You smile, saliva dribbling down your chin, “Good?”

His eyes darken at the question, “Do that again and I might cum down your throat.”

Your eyes squint at the challenge and you drop your head to lick a stripe from the base of his cokc to the tip, making him shiver from the pleasure but before you could drop your lips to his cock again his hand grips at your neck, “Not today, baby. I need to fuck you.”

He pulls you up and goes to flip you but you quickly blurt, “Can I be on top?”

“Fuck yes, you can.”

He helps you up to hover above his erect penis. You grip it tightly and guide it towards your entrance before sinking down onto it.

“Oh, Michael,” you groan at the girth of his dick, pushing your pussy open.

“Y/N how are you so fucking tight?”

You laugh a little, the sting of the stretch of his dick stopping you halfway and settle on resting your hands on his chest, “Why don’t you fuck me more often?” You counter.

Michael’s eyes darken more — if that’s even possible — and lifts you off his dick almost entirely before slamming into you, making you whine.

“Like that?”

“Yes,” you whimper.

You move forward to rest on your elbows, the sting subsiding from the stretch and begin to move your hips in a swiveling motion, not wanting Michael to abolish your pussy before you’d even started.

“Such a fucking tease.”

You clench your pussy around him, loving the jolt of pleasure that ran through your body at his comment, “Oh, shit.”

“You like that? You dirty little slut, soaking my dick for me.”

Meeting your swivels, Michael sets the pace, thrusting up and everytime you bit back a moan from echoing against the walls.

“Michael,” you whimper out, making him throw his head back and growl at your needy self.

You try to force Michael to go slower but he only ghosts his fingers across your clit, rubbing vicious circles into it. Your head falls forward and you groan as he grunts with every thrust.

He was forcing you to edge quicker than you would’ve liked but the high outweighed any con your fuzzy brain could muster up when the pleasure Micahael was inducing soared through your pussy and to the coil in your stomach, slowly tightening the more he did it.

“Michael, s-so close...”

At this he pulls out and flips you so you’re on your hands and knees and he’s behind you, lining up his cock with your centre and sinking in, once again met with the warmth of your velvety walls.

He slams into you, once again and continues to pound at the same speed, making every thrust harder than the last, somehow reaching further than the last time.

“Hold it for me, baby, can you do that for me?”

You whimper in response, already so close as it is and not sure how much longer you can fend it off.

Michael grips your hair and pulls you back so you arch up and your back meets his chest, “I asked a question, can you do that?”

“Yes. Fuck me, Michael.”

“Good, little slut.”

You clench at that and he lets go of your hair, stabilising himself by gripping your hips hard enough that there would probably be finger-shaped bruises but you didn’t care — not when he was pounding into you, hitting your spot just right, “Right, there, Michael, I’m so fucki—”

He sneaks a hand round to rub circles in your clit and lets the other grab a handful of boob, squeezing and kneading it as much as he wants.

“Good girl, I’m so close, almost there, now.”

You whine, his fingers getting quicker and his thrusts sloppier.

“Oh, fu-fuck..” he groans, “now, you can cum now.”

Crying out his name, you release your hold on your orgasm, feeling the coil snap inside you, now thrilled that you no longer have to stave it off and you fall forward. Michael wraps his arm around your chest, catching you so he can continue to fuck into you.

“That’s it, baby, milk my cock like the good fucking girl you are.”

Michael’s thrusts become erratic as he chases his high. When he reaches it, you feel him releasing his seed deep inside your pulsating pussy. He slows down his thrusts, riding out both of your highs for you. 

When he shudders one final time, he slumps forward, cheek resting on your sweaty back but he didn’t care.

After a few moments, he pulls his softening cock out of your sore pussy, making you wince from the over-stimulation. He presses a soft kiss to your back and goes to fetch a wet soft-cloth to clean you up. Your eyes flutter closed and you only know he’s returned by the soft caress of his hand down one thigh, pushing them apart so he can clean you up. You whimper from the soreness but let him continue as you know it has to happen in order to stay clean.

He hums as he goes about cleaning you up and tosses the cloth to the side where he can address it in the morning.

You pat the bed beside you and he climbs in, hugging you from behind and pressing multiple soft kisses to your back, making you shiver.

“That was...”

You wait for him to continue.

“Can we do that again?”

“Like now?” you reply, alarmed.

“Uh.”

“Jesus Christ, Michael, what are you made of?”

“So I’m guessing that’s a no.”

“You bet your ass it’s a no.”

He waits a beat. 

“Wake me up before Polly gets up in the morning,” you mumble.

Michael grins, “You know I will.”

“I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> to that one anon who always asked me for michael smut. yeah. you know who you are. i’m not sure if i’m writing this out of anger or to please you. bruh i love you fr fr though. in the heat of the moment i actually wrote something. lol hats off to you though.


End file.
